


But It's Better than Drinking Alone

by natascha_ronin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 18:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13487664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natascha_ronin/pseuds/natascha_ronin
Summary: Hooked Queen friendship, eventual Dragon Queen. Killian and Regina comfort each other over the loss of Robin in Season Six. S6 spec fic.





	But It's Better than Drinking Alone

The first time he visits, it’s at night; moon full, winds rustling the wet autumn leaves that stick to his boots. Graveyards are eerie places to begin with, but there’s no one he cares to seek advice from; he just wants a quiet place to voice his thoughts. He kept a journal for a great many years, but this isn’t something he really even wants to write down, angry as he is. 

Besides, he still hasn’t had a moment to come pay his respects.

“She’s lying.” He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, flask tucked in his elbow. “We went to hell and back, and now she’s keeping something from me and I’m standing here stewing and talking to you about it.”

He takes a swig of rum. “Simple love life, indeed.” 

“But you know what’s worse, mate?” He snorts, shaking his head. “I’m so willing to believe her.”

He kicks at the clod of grass that’s growing in over the recently upturned earth. “Y’know we took down a villain today, a real piece of work.” He looks down, squinting at the headstone. Crickets are chirping in the distance. “You’d have been proud of Regina, but don’t tell her I said that.” 

He lets out a long sigh. “We miss you, mate.” With a sure hand, he pours a steady dram of rum on the ground from his flask. 

______

 

He makes it a point to visit every week. 

“Belle’s come to us for help. She has a child on the way,” he says as he stares at any other place in the cemetery but the gravestone in front of him. The sky is gray and there’s a storm brewing just off the coast; he can smell it. The ground is still soaked from the rain earlier that morning. He squats down and plays with a rock in the dirt, poking his finger over and over into the indention made by upturning it.

“It’s nice, really, having her around. We share books.” He chuckles. “Emma has gotten her watching some program about history and time travel and a place called Scotland.” He shrugs and smirks. “There’re some pretty saucy love scenes, if I do say so myself.”

He sobers. 

“But she’s still pretending everything is alright, when it clearly isn’t.” 

He clenches his jaw and growls. “I wish she would trust me. It’s not as if everything we’ve gone through hasn’t given us the strength to overcome this. I wish she would just realize that she doesn’t have to do this alone, that she’s worth everything to me – to her family.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Speaking of family, your girlfriend is having a bit of trouble of her own. She’s been rather busy the last few days, I don’t know if she’s had a chance to mention it.” He pulls out his flask and takes a drink, then notices that it’s mostly empty. He squints. It’s been a rough week.

“She split herself from the Evil Queen to avoid making the same bad choices after you as her –“ he stops, his voice catching in his throat, then nod grimly. “I can certainly understand the rationale.”

He stands and pours out the last of the rum, listening to it splatter on the saturated ground, before he nods to the gravestone and corks the flask. 

______

 

“She’s dying.”

His eyes are glassy and red-rimmed, emotion strangling his voice, making it come out at a higher pitch. “She’s dying, and she didn’t tell us.” He heaves and sobs, doubling over onto the side of the headstone. He puts his hand out to catch his balance and the stone feels smooth to the touch, not like the one he carved into in the underworld. 

_Gods, the underworld_ , he thinks. The thought of Emma back in that place gives him chills. The many dangers, not the least of which took his former love. 

“I have to help her, Robin,” he whispers to the stone. “You have to help us. Wherever you are. She’s all I have anchoring me to this world. Without her, I – I – “ 

Just then he hears footsteps walking up behind him. 

“Killian?” Regina’s voice cuts through the damp air. 

He can’t speak, so he just nods. 

Out of the corner of his eye, she crouches down beside him. 

She’s different now, with her evil half gone. Regina is far more introspective than he’s ever seen her. It’s a pleasure, really, being around her and helping maintain order in this chaos. She’s a family he never thought he’d become a part of. 

“Are you alright?” There’s concern written all over her face, along with the sadness she’s borne since he first knew her. It’s a sadness he recognizes, from standing too long alone without leaning on anyone else. 

“Just having a drink with my mate.” 

His smile is unconvincing, but she laughs all the same. She takes a deep breath. 

“We’re going to fight this, you know.” 

Determination was always a strength of Regina’s. He nods his head in agreement. 

“It’s okay to be afraid to lose her, you know.” She meets his eyes with understanding. “I was afraid to lose him.”

His voice is like gravel pouring out of his throat. “Aye, but it didn’t change anything. In the end, we still lose.”

She grimaces. “Who says I lost?” Regina shifts, taking her hands out of her coat pockets to steady herself. “You know, I told Snow this a few weeks ago, and it bears repeating. I choose to believe that this story will have a better ending than my last.”

She nudges his shoulder with hers. 

“That sounds an awful lot like something Snow would say to all of us in one of her hope speeches.” 

They both chuckle. Regina reaches up to sweep her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, but she has a way of rubbing off on people.” 

He has to agree. “Aye, she has a contagious nature, to be sure.”

She meets his gaze then. “Your story will have a better ending than your last, Hook.” 

She stands up and holds out her hand to help him up. 

“C’mon, pirate. Your girlfriend is waiting for you at Granny’s.”

He stands with her assistance and pulls out his flask, raises it towards Robin’s headstone, uncorks it and pours out a healthy serving onto the grass in front of the stone. Flowers and arrows still litter the mound, and he’s careful not to dribble any rum on them.

As they turn to walk toward where her car is parked, she sniffs. 

“Oh, and Killian?”

“Hm?”

“ Robin always preferred scotch.” 

______

 

The queen is correct in her optimism. They figure out the solution together, as a family they go, and love is love is love is love is strength. This love their family weaves stronger than any bond he’s ever felt in his life, even revenge over centuries adrift on an ocean of grief. 

So, he visits his silent friend with a bottle of scotch in hand, learning to appreciate the taste of the bitter liquid.

He still prefers rum.

If Emma notices the bottle of Bowmore added to the liquor cabinet, she doesn’t mention it. 

 

______

 

Killian and Regina visit together sometimes. 

He notices the shift in her demeanor after a long awhile. 

It’s subtle, and seasons pass over her like they do in his own life. He’s not comfortable with the bodily discomfort of growing older, but at least they pass. She’s happy, but he doesn’t want to push it, not when the dragon’s slender hand lingers over hers, when her gaze remains on Regina after she leaves the room. 

He knows that look, that yearning. 

He’s worn it himself. 

They’re finishing breakfast as a family one morning, Snow cleaning the messy hands of the wee prince, Emma and David standing to go out on patrol, Henry shouldering his backpack and taking Violet’s hand to walk together to school, when he catches a glimpse of blonde hair tucked into a jaunty cap.  
Regina’s eyes follow Maleficent as she walks to a booth in the back where her daughter is waiting. When her head turns back towards them, there’s a melancholy look about her. 

She’s in love, or close to it. 

She’s in love and she doesn’t want to disrupt the peaceful camaraderie of family and life and Robin’s memory. 

______

 

“Care to take a walk with me, your majesty?” 

She looks bemused for a moment. 

“I’m going to visit an old friend.”

Understanding dawns in her eyes and she dons her heavy coat before they start walking towards the cemetery. It’s winter, snow blanketing the ground. He still wears his leather, but Emma has insisted upon long johns underneath his button-down shirts, and wool socks on his feet. 

He scoffs at the idea of wearing a cap over his ears. The idea reminds him too much of Smee with that damned red cap he was so fond of. 

His ears are red and numb by the time they reach the familiar headstone. They could have driven, he supposes, but the walk is good for clearing his head. 

As a kindred, it’s likely doing the same for her. 

They don’t always talk, and sometimes they simply wait for each other, visiting others they’ve lost. On this particular morning, he senses that she would like to be alone with Robin for a few moments, so he leans against the large sycamore several yards away. Snow drifts gently down around the graveyard, melting over his boots and his jacket, giving the whole place a serene calm. 

He can see her face, though. She’s crying and gesturing as she talks, so he walks over to her and puts his arm around her shoulders. 

“It’s okay, you know.” 

She sniffles and pulls a handkerchief out, dabbing at her nose and wet eyes. 

“It’s okay to fall in love again, Regina.”

She’s bewildered as she looks over to him, then purses her lips and nods gently. 

“I’ve seen the way you and the dragon look at each other.”

“How long have you known?” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. 

He tisks and looks up to the sky. “A few months.”

Regina gives him a shaky smile, her eyes fearful. “It’s just that, after Daniel it took me decades to fall in love again. I’m worried that it’s too soon.”

Killian bites his lips and cocks his head. “It’s not.”

She scoffs. “Like I care about what you think.” 

“Perhaps not so much what I think, but what Henry or the rest of our family might think?” He nods to the grave in front of them. “What he thinks?”

_Our family_. How wild it seems to him that all of this is normal now, the family dinners, caring for other people, encouraging the woman who once hired him as a henchman. For a second, he’s amazed at how much his life – and Regina’s – changed when they stopped seeking revenge and let themselves love and be loved.

So, he turns to Robin’s headstone. “Mate, tell her. Tell her there’s a gorgeous blonde waiting to give her a shot at happiness and she’d be a fool not to go after her.”

Just then, amidst the soft drifts of snow and wind, a black feather floats down to rest upon the top of Robin’s headstone. 

Killian looks up at the sky. “Damn birds.” 

But Regina gasps, reaching out to grasp it. She’s smiling as she looks down, touching the downy wisps with trembling hands. 

When she looks back up at him, she’s smiling. 

They don’t drink that day, there’s no whisky poured out on snow-dusted earth, but Regina’s hand lingers over Robin’s headstone until they walk away. 

 

______

 

A few days later, he’s brushing snow off of Emma’s car outside the diner. She’s still talking shop with David inside after lunch. He looks up through the curtain of snow that’s pummeling down on top of the town, and he sees them. 

Regina and Maleficent, arm in arm, smiling and walking towards him and the diner. 

The mayor looks up from her lover, and, spotting him, gives him a nod. 

He waves back.


End file.
